A New Beginning
by Midori the Matchmaker
Summary: The Immunes were living their life happily at Paradise for a whole month now. But not Minho. Because he was still missing his best friend. He never knew what happened to him. Was he dead? Was he already past the Gone? After a whole month living in Paradise, Minho finally had his answer. Just not the one he was expecting.
1. Prologue

It was dark. Dark all around. Not a speck of light in sight. He was floating in that darkness that had a cement hold on him. He couldn't move his limbs, but he had a distinct feeling he shouldn't be moving at all. Maybe he was supposed to be dead…

But if he was dead, then he shouldn't be feeling anything, right?

Then why the shuck was he feeling cool metal strapped to his wrists and ankles? His eyes snapped open, and he immediately regretted it when blinding light seared into his eyes. He let out a silent cry and quickly closed his eyes. It took a while before his eyes stopped hurting and he was ready to open them again. He slowly opened them, getting them used to the light before inching open further.

He could make out the blurred figures crouching over him. He blinked once, twice to clear his vision. Three men in white coats surrounded him and immediately anger flare through him. And he didn't even know why.

"Where the shuck am I?"

There it was again. Shuck. What does it even mean anyway? It just slipped past his lips naturally.

The man in a white coat nearest to him looked up at him and spoke. "Subject A5 is awake. Prepare to sedate him if he does anything unnecessary."

Subject A5? That wasn't his name. His name was…

Shuck. He didn't know his name. Come to think of it, it didn't seem like he remembered his life either. He was in deep klunk.

There it was again. Another strange word that escaped his mouth. It made him frustrated, not bloody knowing anything.

He mentally slapped himself. This wasn't the bloody time to be thinking about strange words. He can't remember anything for goodness' sake. When the man turned his attention towards a machine, it was then that he started hearing the incessant beeping of the machine. Was that his heartbeat? It was certainly picking up.

"Calm down, Subject A5," the man held up a syringe filled with strange liquid and stuck it into his arm. "You will learn everything later. But for now, just remember…"

He felt himself slipping into the darkness once more. But before the darkness could fully claim him, he managed to catch the last bit of that sentence.

"W.I.C.K.E.D. is good."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: First of all, thank you to those who had supported/favourited/followed the prologue of this story. Well, I now bring you the first chapter to my story, A New Beginning. I am sorry though, that you had to wait long for this chapter. I get distracted from reading crossover stories. So, first chapter, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story except for the plot. The rest belong to James Dashner, especially Newt.**

**oOo**

It has been a month since the remaining Immunes have escaped to Paradise and left everything behind when they crossed through that Flat Trans. Thomas had moved on from Teresa's and Chuck's death and was living a happy life with Brenda. Aris had gotten over Rachel's death. The Gladers and Group B had forgotten the horrors of the Trials and the Cranks. Everyone had gotten over it.

Everyone, except Minho.

Minho couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried. There is always this one person keeping him from forgetting everything, and Minho knew who it was.

Newt. His best friend turned Crank. And Minho didn't even know whether he was still alive or not. Newt had become the Glade mother whether he liked it or not as time passed. He, Minho and Alby had formed a special friendship and no one understood how Newt could stand Alby's temper or Minho's rudeness.

No one understood how Newt could still be so nice even after all the horrors he faced. And maybe that had been what kept them going and not give up.

Minho sighed. He had missed his best friend. The last time he had seen the teen was at Crank Palace, where the blonde was demanding that they leave without him. Minho had been ready to carry him, drag him out of that place, Launcher or not. But the tears Minho saw flowing from Newt's eyes stopped him.

Newt was crying. That was enough for Minho to surrender to his demands. He had only ever seen Newt cry once. When Newt broke his leg from the fall and ended up living with a limp. Newt never cried when they banished the Gladers that broke the rules even though Minho knew his heart broke every single time. He didn't even cry when Rat Man told him he wasn't immune to the Flare. He had expected it all along.

Newt was a tough guy to break. He never cried for himself. He didn't even cry because of the pain from his broken leg. He cried because Alby made him realize that Alby would've killed himself too if he had died. Newt was the only person that was holding him back, and Minho would've made things worse. And Newt never wanted to be the cause of his friend's death.

And that was why Minho left Crank Palace without Newt. It wasn't just because Newt didn't want his friends to see him fully Gone. He was afraid that he would hurt them, like how he hurt the guard that had the Launcher. And he knew how much Newt hated that.

So Minho left his best friend in that shucked up place. He couldn't bear to see Newt crying one more time. He went to Denver with Thomas, Brenda and Jorge and was locked up in a shucking room by that shucking Right Arm that the slinthead Gally joined. And they were brought to W.I.C.K.E.D. headquarters to save the other Immunes in the Maze.

Then Thomas found this place that had a Flat Trans ready for them that leads to a place called Paradise. It didn't really seem like Paradise to Minho even after Teresa died.

Maybe it was because his best friends weren't there to live with him. Sure, Thomas is a good guy, but he had known Newt and Alby for two whole years and they went through everything together. But then he lost both of them to the Flare. Alby because he was terrified of the Flare. Newt because he had the Flare.

Minho broke the stick he was fiddling with, drawing attention from the others, but he ignored them. Why would those scientists create the shucking virus anyway? It just made no sense. Don't people usually stay away from viruses? And weren't viruses incurable in the first place?

"Minho."

Minho glanced at Thomas who had sat beside him. "What do you want, shuck face?"

Thomas didn't seem too bothered about Minho's rudeness, a trait only Newt had over the Gladers. Alby countered with rude remarks of his own, so he doesn't count. Maybe Newt told Thomas to not mind his rudeness or maybe that shuck face had learnt it from Newt himself.

There it goes again. His mind seemed to drift off to one particular direction, and it seemed that Thomas noticed as well. "What's wrong with you, man?"

Minho picked up another stick. "What do you mean what's wrong with me?" He broke the stick into half. "I'm shucking fine."

Thomas frowned deeply. "No, you're not. I can see it, you know. Your temper is getting worse these days. You're ruder than ever and you keep spacing out! This is so not like you."

"Yeah, well, so what?"

Thomas' frown melted into an understanding look. "You're thinking about Newt, aren't you?"

Minho glared angrily at Thomas. Why does he have to be so understanding? "So what if I am?"

Thomas sighed. "Minho, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

Minho stood up indignantly, shocking others who were watching silently. "If you're gonna tell me to forget them and move on, forget it shuck face or I'll mess up your already ugly mug."

"But-"

"No buts, slinthead!" Minho snapped. "You don't know what it was like to lose both of them. All I want to know is what happened to Newt! Is he still alive and past the Gone? Is he already dead?"

Minho could see Thomas tensed up at the word 'dead' and guilt filled his eyes, disappearing as soon as it came. And that made Minho suspicious. He got that sinking feeling that it wasn't Teresa nor Chuck's death he was thinking about.

He turned away from Thomas and headed for the beach.

"Where are you going?" Thomas called out.

Minho stopped, but he never turned back. "To go clear my mind. Don't bother following." And with that he jogged out of the forest.

Thomas stared at the retreating back and sighed. His talk with Minho hadn't gone as planned. But he needed to do this. He needed to get Minho to move on without revealing to him that Newt is dead.

As much as he wanted Minho to forget, he wanted it to be the same for himself too. True, as everybody had noticed, he had gotten over Chuck and Teresa's deaths. But that didn't mean he got over Newt's. Not when it haunted his dreams each night.

_Please Tommy… Please._

**_BANG!_**

Thomas shivered. It was a wonder how he could even sleep at all. He could still remember that moment clearly. Hair ripped off in some places, shirt in tatters and pants looked no better, scratches and bruises on a face that would've sent girls swooning, a pale hand forcing his hand to point a gun at him, eyes filled with anger and madness…

He shook his head to clear them of his thoughts. It was a good thing he had closed his eyes and ran away. He was sure he wouldn't get a wink of sleep had he looked into Newt's lifeless eyes.

That was probably why he didn't want to tell Minho about Newt. He knew the man would be devastated and start becoming more withdrawn. Maybe that was why Newt chose him instead of Minho. Because Minho wouldn't do it. Because it would break Minho's heart.

A sweaty hand clamped on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. He turned to its owner, and there Gally stood, his face devoid of any expression even after watching the scene.

"How did the talk go?"

Thomas groaned. "God. And to think, he's our leader right now."

Gally shrugged and leaned on the wall Thomas was leaning against. "Can't blame him though. Shank's been friends with them for two whole years and they're pretty much the only ones that stuck with him through hell and back. He was horrified when Alby sacrificed himself to the Grievers, but he had to snap out of it and stop Newt, else he'll follow Alby.

And he didn't want that to happen. He can't bear to lose two of them in one go, so he had to force Newt to move on. Now with both of them gone, there's nothing holding him back from regretting what he didn't do."

Thomas stared at Gally in disbelief. "Were you watching us the whole time?"

Gally snorted. "'Course I did. What did you expect me to do? Pace around the room like a nervous sissy? I said it before. I was supposed to kill you. Didn't expect Chuck to jump in front of you like that."

Thomas sighed tiredly. "What do we do about Minho?"

"Just give him a little more time," Gally said. "Give him a little more time until he breaks."

**oOo**

Minho, who had long since stopped running, strolled along the cliff's edge overlooking the waves as it crashed onto the shore. He thought back to that day when they were still in the Maze and the Med-jacks had come out of room telling them that Newt would not be able to run anymore. He and Alby had rushed into the room and Newt was sitting there with his leg in a crudely made cast.

They had known from the start that it wasn't a Griever attack and made Newt promise them that he wouldn't attempt anything like that again. Then Alby took that chance to make all three of them promise not to die if they can't help it. Funny how Alby would be the first to break that promise by making that shucking useless sacrifice.

He kicked a pebble off the cliff, barely hearing the sound it made. _Thunk._

Minho continued walking, pondering whether he should have stopped Alby from throwing himself to the Grievers and –

A sudden realization made him stop in his tracks. That pebble just now made a _thunk _sound. Shouldn't it have made a _thud _sound when landing on the sand? That is, if it really did land on sand…

Minho quickly scrambled over to the edge, crouching and bending over to see. There, lying on the golden shore was a body which was quite familiar to him. The person lay on his stomach, hood covering his head, but Minho was pretty sure he had seen the person before.

Sliding down the cliff as fast as he could, he ran over to the unconscious – could be dead – person. Looking closer, the person couldn't have been much older than him.

The teen's white long-sleeved hoodie was covered in dirt, turning the white into a murky shade of brown. His backpack had dropped to his side, which was getting wet because of the high tide. He also had a wristwatch similar to the Runners' strapped to his right wrist.

Minho was almost sure it was him, if it wasn't for the fact that no one should know of this place and no one could ever come here without a Flat Trans (or any noisy transportation without alerting the Gladers and Group B), but it wouldn't hurt to hope. He rolled the teen onto his back and gasped in shock.

There was no mistaking it. It was him.

That blonde hair. That square jaw. He had seen that face for as long as he could remember to not recognize it.

It was his best friend.

It was Newt.

**oOo**

**So how is it for the first chapter? Please leave a review and tell me what you think! Also, if you like this story, keep an eye out for my future stories. I promise it will be interesting.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Here it is, a new chapter of 'A New Beginning'. Thank you to those who have reviewed/favourited/followed this story. Also, I will be posting a new story soon, so check it out!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maze Runner Trilogy and it's characters. All I own is the plot.**

**oOo**

Pandemonium. That was the one word that could describe the situation in Paradise right now. Truth to be told, Thomas wanted to join the Gladers and Group B in asking Minho what the shuck was going on. But the look Minho gave him before he ran straight to the Med-jacks had stopped Thomas in his tracks. His friend clearly didn't want to hear any klunk right now.

But it was so tempting! How often is it do you see a person who was supposed to be dead getting carried by his friend who was plagued by memories of said person? Especially when Thomas was the reason why Newt's dead in the first place.

But then, how did Newt get to Paradise in the first place? Paradise shouldn't be accessible to people without a Flat Trans, boat or a helicopter… And they would've known if people had arrived using the last two transportations.

Shuck everything. He was going to get some answers. No matter how scarce or vague they may be.

* * *

><p>The feeling Minho had right now, was hard to describe. And he never liked it when he felt this way. The last time he had felt that feeling was when he and Alby were waiting for Clint or Jeff to finish their operation on Newt's leg. This feeling he had back then had returned twofold.<p>

It felt like history was going to repeat itself.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair. He could hear the questions and theories of what was going on floating into the waiting room. He wished he could answer them himself. But he had been so desperate to get Newt back to town he had forgotten to look around and search for the one who sent him.

Maybe that was why he couldn't be leader before. And he had nearly forgotten Newt's bag. Speaking of which…

Minho dug through the soaked backpack he had brought with him. He took out the first thing his fingers touched: a damp book. It said 'Find Your Way Through The Maze' on its cover and Minho flipped through the pages. Two hundred pages of mazes with fifty for the answers. Half of it completed with numbers like '0:10' below them.

Were they the time taken to complete the maze? Minho wasn't sure. He put the book aside and continued rummaging through the bag.

He took out a knife this time, the letters on the silver sheath scratched out, barely recognizable. He unsheathe it. Sharp, shiny, still in good condition. He put the knife on top of the book.

He brought out another book wrapped in plastic, so it was mostly dry. He flipped through the pages and was surprised to see drawings, mostly sketches, of the Glade, the Maze and people with no faces.

But there was one person with a face in the book, and she looked vaguely familiar to Minho, like he had seen her at least once. He shrugged it off and placed the book on top of the knife, and he turned back to the bag.

Of all the things he would've expected Newt to have in his bag, this was not it. He shook the bottle, and the sound it made confirmed Minho's suspicion.

Pills.

But what would Newt need them for?

He was about to investigate further when the door opened, and Minho hurriedly shove the bottle back into the bag.

"You in here, Minho?" Thomas' voice called out.

Minho sighed in relief. It was just Thomas. Good thing too. He wouldn't want to find how angry Newt would be when he found out Minho had went through his bag.

Thomas frowned. "Why do you sound so relieved to see me? Just an hour ago you were running away from me."

Thomas didn't bother waiting for Minho's answer and looked to see what he was meddling with. He looked back at Minho with an eyebrow raised. A guilty look flitted across Minho's face and Thomas sighed resignedly. He sat down on an empty chair and began placing Newt's stuff into the bag, raising a questioning look from Minho.

"I won't tell Newt that you look through his bag," he assured Minho.

"That's not the point here. I thought you would be the first one to jump at this golden opportunity."

"I am curious. It's just that I prefer to get permission first before searching through people's bag. It's only when they don't, then I look through secretly."

Minho raised an eyebrow at his reason and Thomas just continued. "And if I don't want them to find out, I have to remove evidence that I have ever looked through their bag."

"I don't even want to know how the shuck you know that."

Thomas laughed. Minho really didn't need to know that. At that moment, another door opened, and Clint walked through this time. Minho was on him immediately, demanding that he tell Minho everything. Thomas had to stop Minho from shaking the poor Med-jack too much.

"How is he, Clint?" Thomas pressed.

"Well, other than the fact that he is quite dehydrated and is lacking in his sleep, he's fine. That and he have lost a lot of weight since we last saw him."

"So, he's alright then?" Minho questioned, voice filled with uncertainty.

Clint nodded. "He'll wake up in a day or two. Brain's catching up with his much needed sleep."

"But we can go in and see him, right?"

Clint sighed wearily. "I suppose you could. But you better not do any shucking thing to wake him up."

Minho grinned thankfully at him before rushing into the room. Thomas nodded thanks to Clint before following Minho into the room, albeit slower than him.

Holding a bowl of water over Newt's lips, Jeff slowly poured the water into Newt's mouth while holding his head up. Newt processed the water in his mouth and gulped it down. Minho and Thomas sat down on the chairs next to Newt's bed as quietly as they could.

Jeff turned to Minho. "You wouldn't mind helping me with this, would you? I have to go check up on Harriet and I trust you wouldn't drown him while he's asleep."

Minho had actually managed to look offended. "How could you possibly think that I would harm Newt, much less drown him? I didn't know you thought so low of me!"

Jeff sent a pointed look to Minho and Minho's expression melted into a scowl. "Okay, fine. I'll be careful, shuck face."

Thomas could've sworn that the edge of Jeff's mouth twitched upwards. He handed the bowl of water to Minho and went out. Minho moved from his chair to sit on Newt's bed, the mattress dipping low to support his weight. He tipped the water slowly into Newt's mouth, just like what Jeff did seconds ago.

"Do you think Newt is still a Crank and is already past the Gone?" Thomas asked.

At the mention of crank, Minho's thoughts were brought back to the time where they left Newt at Crank Palace. Guilt and worry filled him as he replied in a quiet voice, "We do not talk about that right now."

"But there could be a possibility, Minho," Thomas said, his voice laced with the curiosity, just like the time when he first arrived at the Glade. "The Flare that had infected his brain led him to this place! The Flare is a virus after all. The affected wouldn't know where they're gonna go and – "

"Shuck it, slinthead! We're not talking about Newt being a shucking Crank! We'll just cross that shuck bridge when we get to it. Until Newt wakes up, he is not a shucking Crank!"

Thomas could literally feel the anger radiating from Minho. Newt being a Crank must have hit him harder than he thought. And the memories must have left a scar deeper than anyone thought. Everything became silent again until Brenda came in.

"Minho," she called, "the Runners were asking you whether there'll be any changes to the preparations for the Hunt tomorrow."

Minho groaned. "Shuck. Can't they do anything without me?"

And with that he stormed out of the room, but Brenda wasn't following as she was supposed to. Thomas suspected that informing Minho about the Runners was not the only thing she came here for.

Brenda, in all her seriousness, sat down beside Thomas and stared at him straight in the eye. "What's going on, Thomas? Wasn't Newt supposed to be… dead?"

Thomas nodded. Brenda had noticed that he wasn't getting enough sleep one day and forced the reason out of him. Thomas had spilled everything to Brenda and she comforted him, making him feel better than before. He was undecided whether to tell Minho or not, and Brenda told him to follow his heart. And since then, Brenda was the only person to know that Newt was supposed to be dead.

"I don't know how Newt is still alive and breathing, but maybe this could be a good thing for us. For Minho."

Brenda's face softened with worry. "But what if this whole thing is a trial, Thomas? What if this whole 'Newt is alive' thing is just a Variable thrown at you by W.I.C.K.E.D.? Especially since you and I are the only ones who know that Newt is supposed to be dead."

Thomas held her hand in assurance. "Think about it, Brenda. We've taken their chips out of our brains, so they can't control us anymore. We never see any more beetle blades since we came to this place. There's no way for them to know what we're doing."

"You forget, Thomas that we might be dealing with W.I.C.K.E.D. here. They could've come up with some other way to observe all of us, to experiment on us. What if it really is just a test?"

Thomas squeezed her hand. "I hope not, Brenda. I hope not."

* * *

><p>Darkness.<p>

Once again, there was darkness. He wondered whether he should open his eyes this time. He'd better no, unless he wants to blind himself again.

He could hear voices. He didn't know what they were talking about. Doesn't really sound important to him. Then he felt a cold hand lifting his head. He pondered on what they were going to do to him when he felt liquid slip past his lips.

Water.

Sweet, sweet water. It felt like ages since he had last drank it. He gulped down the water thirstily, wishing that the owner of that cold hand would hurry up and give him more water.

More voices. Then that cold hand let his head go and was replaced by a pair of warm ones, giving him more of the water he needs. More voices again and this time he managed to catch a few words.

"- think – past the Gone?" a familiar voice said. He didn't know where he heard that voice before and he wants to find out. But then he realized he couldn't open his eyes.

"– not talk – now." Another familiar voice. It was frustrating not knowing who the owners of those voices were. But their voices had calmed him down, unlike the ones when he had heard the first time he woke up.

"- a possibility – the Flare –" The Flare. Wasn't that the virus that was spreading all over the world? "- infected – virus –"

Then the second voice shouted. "Shuck it, slinthead!"

Shuck. There's that word. How does this guy know that word when no one else – Google knows, it just wasn't the meaning he expected – knows it?

"- talking about Newt –" How does this guy know his name? He certainly didn't remember telling him anything.

"- being – Crank. – cross – shuck bridge – wakes up – not a Crank!" So many questions left unanswered and he didn't like it.

After a silent moment, a soft, scratchy voice – it didn't sound like a guy. A girl, maybe? – floated into the room, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. The second voice grumbled about something and he felt the warm hand holding his head leave him.

He lay quietly on the mattress as he strained his ears to hear the conversation between the girl and the first voice. Darkness reached its long, cold fingers for him again as he felt himself slipping further into darkness.

And before darkness could full claim him, his hearing cleared and he managed to catch the last bit of a sentence.

"- know that Newt is supposed to be dead?"

What?

**oOo**

**So, what do you think? Leave your reviews and criticism right down in the box. It will surely motivate me to type faster.**


	4. Chapter 3

**I present to you Maze Runner fans, chapter 3 of A New Beginning! We're finally getting somewhere with this story. Thank you to those few who had favourited/followed/reviewed to this story. I really appreaciate it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maze Runner Trilogy and the characters. The plot is mine.**

Minho had been extremely snappy at the Runners during the preparations for the Hunt. He snapped at almost every single thing the others say and the only thing on his mind was getting back to Newt and wondering when Newt will wake up. When the meeting was over, he ran back to Newt's room and started asking Thomas whether Newt woke up.

He didn't.

Minho stayed beside Newt the whole time, waiting for Newt to open his eyes so he could tell Newt about how stupid he is and how he would never leave him behind again. Not like the time he left Alby in the Maze to Thomas.

At one point, Frypan came in and handed Minho his cold dinner, saying that he 'thought you were going to come out and eat, didn't think that you'll stay here the whole shucking time. So don't blame me if it got cold'. Minho wasn't even going to complain. He knew how much Frypan hated it when people let his food get cold and he was lucky that he got any food at all.

Clint came in to check on Newt's condition and gave Minho the duty of giving Newt water. Minho happily took it to help improve Newt's condition. Newt drank all the water and Minho was left with nothing to do except sit and stare.

Gally came in to visit, but that was it.

In the end, Minho fell asleep on his chair, not noticing the blinking eyes on the boy he was supposed to watch.

* * *

><p>Morning came and Minho woke up with a blanket draped over him. His bleary eyes glanced from the blanket to the bed. Sure enough, the Newt's blanket was with him. He didn't know what idiot would take a blanket off a patient (yes, Newt is now considered a patient) and give it to someone else, but he decided he was going to hate the person.<p>

He covered Newt with the blanket and went outside to get some water for Newt and himself. He met Frypan, who gave him bread and eggs for breakfast. He gobbled down his breakfast and was about to leave when Frypan stopped him.

"Don't get too attached this time, Minho."

Minho was about to ask what he meant when some Gladers from both groups came in and Frypan chased Minho out, yelling that he'd get in his way or something and Minho grumbled about Frypan being a 'shank that is so hard to understand and why did he call himself Frypan anyway?'

He decided to go back to Newt's room when Brenda stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

Minho frowned. "Where does it look like I'm going?"

Brenda's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you forgot that _you're_ leading the Hunt today?"

Minho's eyes widened in realization. He did forget about it. He was so worked up about Newt that he'd forget something as important as the Hunt. If they don't have enough food, it'll be all his fault!

Brenda knew from the gaping look on Minho that he had forgotten all about it, and she knew exactly why. "If you're that worried about Newt, maybe I could get Thomas to stay back and look after him?"

Minho contemplated this fact for a while. He really wanted to be next to Newt and be the first person he sees the moment he wakes up, Crank or not. But then, this Hunt is important and the others still have a long way to go before they could track animals on their own…

He could trust Thomas to inform him the moment Newt wakes up, right?

He reluctantly agreed to let Thomas watch over Newt. He had a bad feeling about something, but he didn't know what. All he knew was that it wasn't Newt waking up to see that ugly shuck face instead of his beautiful self.

* * *

><p>For once, he wished that Brenda wouldn't go around volunteering him to do stuff like this. Sure, he wanted to assure his friend that Newt would be safe – though Minho was acting as if Newt would just disappear when no one watches him – and that he would inform Minho when Newt wakes up…<p>

But he was hoping that the Hunt would help him forget his last encounter with Newt at Denver. But no… Brenda had to go ruin it for him and place him to go watch over the one person that is still haunting his dreams.

_Kill me._

_If you've ever been my friend, kill me._

_KILL ME!_

_Please, Tommy. Please._

**_Bang._**

Thomas shook his head and willed himself to not think about it. It had been so heart breaking to see a nice and caring person such as Newt be reduced to a mess. He could still remember the crazed desperation in his eyes, wanting to die with what's left of his sanity with him.

And Thomas knew that it wasn't the Flare talking.

It was Newt himself.

And that was what scared him the most.

What would Newt say when he wakes up? What will he do when he finds out his plan to die had failed again? What if his whole being here was just to die again? Thomas' fingers grazed over Newt's forehead where the bullet should have been. Where the hole it made should have been.

But it was all smooth skin. No mark or scar to show that something had been there. Something that should've been there.

He withdrew his hand. It had sounded like he wanted Newt to die, but he didn't.

Others would be jealous of Newt; he was practically immortal since all of his attempts to die that should've killed normal people had failed. But to Newt, he probably felt like it was a curse. All he wanted was peace – to escape from this black hell labelled as 'reality' and painted over a thousand times.

But he was never granted that peace. It was just kind of sad, seeing as Newt had gone through a lot of klunk in his life and was still nice to others.

He buried his head in his hands, too lost in his thoughts to hear the sound of rustling from the bed.

* * *

><p>He awoke in a hot and stuffy room this time and he was pretty sure he was sweating bullets. He gazed down at his body.<p>

A blanket. No wonder. He thought he had given it to the Asian guy but apparently he had given it back to him. He peered to his left. A different guy this time. Was he sleeping too?

He turned to the other side. A closed window. No wonder the room was so stuffy. He wondered whether the guy felt the temperature rising at all.

He reached over to the window, not wanting to move much so as to not wake the guy. He stretched as far as he could without getting off the bed. He pushed the window open as far as he could, but he ended up falling to the floor with a loud thud, bringing the blanket with him.

He must've woken the other guy up for he jumped up from his chair, mumbled something that sounded like 'oh no, oh no, oh no, 's gone, gone…' and ran out of the room yelling for someone. He assumed that something must have flown out the open window.

He would've gone after the guy, but he was still sleepy. So he climbed back onto the bed and covered himself with the blanket since the room was now cooler with the window open. He closed his eyes and was lulled to sleep by the sounds of footsteps rushing to the room.

* * *

><p>Thomas was hyperventilating so badly. He was so dead. Newt had disappeared and Minho was so going to kill him, shuck his face up till he was unrecognizable. And he didn't want that. Maybe sulking and taking his eyes of Newt wasn't such a good idea.<p>

Maybe that was why Minho always looked as if Newt would just wake up all of a sudden and run away. Maybe that was why he insisted on someone watching Newt every single second.

Maybe he should stop thinking so much and start searching for Newt as hard as he could.

With that thought set in his mind, he recruited Brenda, who for some reasons didn't follow the Runners out on their Hunt. Brenda told him he was just seeing things and that a person with a limp couldn't possibly jump out of a window and run away without anyone noticing him.

Thomas had calmed down a little when she said that, but was sent back into a full-blown panic when Jeff showed up and commented – quite nonchalantly, mind you – that Newt used to be the best Runner – better than Minho to Thomas and Brenda's surprise – until Newt broke his leg.

Thomas didn't see the glare Brenda shot at Jeff.

Then Gally showed up and suggested that they start searching from where he last saw Newt. With the tone Gally was using Thomas wondered whether Gally knew what had happened, but he shrugged it off for the moment. Brenda and Jeff agreed with Gally, wanting to see if Newt was really gone.

Aris tagged along with them because Harriet and Beth had chased him away and he had nothing else to do. Brenda had recommended joining the Runners on their next Hunt, but he declined.

On the way back to the medical building (Brenda had demanded so badly that they use the term 'hospital', but Minho had argued saying that it was so commonplace, and so they compromised), they bumped into Clint, who was on his way to bring Newt his water. He wasn't really happy when he spilt half of the water onto his shirt, but he blanched when Thomas blurted out that Newt went missing.

And so the motley crew ran to the medical building and up to the room where Newt is staying. Imagine Thomas' shock and irritation of the others when they saw that Newt was where he was supposed to be: sleeping on his bed.

Thomas stuttered out an excuse. Some rolled their eyes at him and some stormed out of the room. Gally rolled his eyes, mumbled about how the 'shucking slinthead wouldn't be able to see something unless it was shoved in his face and walked out.

Thomas sat back solemnly on his chair, determined not to let Newt out of his sight again. A few hours later, the Runners came back from their Hunt and if the gossip chain is working properly, Minho would've heard about it as soon as he arrived in the village and will be rushing towards his destination.

Sure enough, footsteps thundered through the hall and the one who came bursting in was none other than Minho.

* * *

><p>Minho had been so relieved when he saw that Newt was still in his bed. Honestly, he shouldn't have listened to the gossip chain – because really, most of the times they were just klunk – but Newt had this habit of appearing and disappearing when people least expect it and it could've happened again.<p>

Sitting down next to Thomas, he breathed out a sigh of relief and fatigue and drew Thomas' attention to him. "How was the Hunt?"

"Like klunk. All we caught were a few rabbits. Not enough to feed a whole army, but there are a few groups who were late, so maybe they managed to catch a deer or something big."

Thomas nodded, and the room returned to its suffocating silence.

"You took your eyes off him, didn't you?"

Thomas gaped at Minho in shock. "In my defence, it wasn't like I expected it to happen."

Minho glared. "And that is exactly when klunk will happen. When shanks least expects it."

Thomas returned the heated glare with a cold one. "I finally found someone who believed that Newt really did disappear but I'm not happy about it."

"Well, you shouldn't have taken your eyes off him."

"Well, maybe someone should've told me about Newt's disappearing trick!"

Minho slowly stood up, looking ready to turn someone into a punching bag. "Oh, so it's my fault now that you lost him? Why did you think I was so reluctant to let you shuck faces watch over him? Huh?"

Thomas was about to retort back when someone else spoke up.

"You know, as much as I want to know how you bloody shucks know my bloody name, I want to get some sleep here because I'm buggin' tired."

They whirled around to the source of the voice and saw him slowly sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Newt?"

**And that's it for chapter 3! Sooooo, what do you guys think? Review! Tell me what you guys think! Don't forget Frypan's warning to Minho, alright? It'll be important in the coming chapters! Review, guys! The last chapter barely had any, and I want to know whether this story is interesting enough... **


	5. Chapter 4

**Everyone... I AM SO SORRY! After my last update (which was like a long time ago) I remembered I had an exam the next morning. So i studied the whole night and luckily, I got an average mark. Then that night I decided to take it easy and finally watch some TV. And then I found myself watching The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. That movie reignited the spark I had for LOTR, so I read through (and this time, favourited and followed some of those stories) all those stories as much as I could and read new ones that appeared in my absence. I even found some good Avengers fic in the process. To summarized it all, I was ****_very_**** busy reading. A reminder came in the form of sitting in my favourite shop and drinking tea. Thanks to that, you now have chapter 4!**

**Thank you to those who had reviewed/followed/favourited this story and waited patiently for this chapter! To ****_amillipede _****about her question, this story will have no romance between anyone except for the canonical Thomas/Brenda. But even that will be little, because I just don't do romance that well. To those who were hoping for slash, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you could always think of this as bromance (which it's supposed to be in the first place).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the whole Maze Runner Trilogy. Only the plot is mine.**

"Vitals stable, temperature normal, a little skinnier than the last time I saw you… Are you feeling dizzy or anything, Newt?"

Newt shook his head. Thomas and Minho sat guiltily and ashamed at the side, listening to Jeff and Clint as they checked Newt for anything they had missed when he was asleep. When Newt had awakened, Minho and Thomas were shocked to the extent where they had just stared at Newt with their mouths gaping open like fishes.

Newt had assumed there was something on his face and started checking for anything unusual. And then something clicked in Thomas' head and ran out, yelling for the Med-jacks. It was a good thing the Med-jacks were close by. He didn't want to run all over the place searching for Clint and Jeff.

But then again, a lot of things could happen in a short period of time and he knew that by experience. So when he ran back to Newt's room with the Med-jacks trailing behind him, he wasn't surprised to see Minho's face morphed into a mixture of shock and disbelief and a hint of sympathy on Newt's. He had little time to wonder what had happened between those two when Clint and Jeff pushed past him to get to Newt.

Their sudden appearance broke Minho out of his stupor and made way for them. Jeff started questioning Newt about how he felt, whether he felt thirsty or did he get enough sleep and all that health related questions. When Newt had explained to them how he woke up, Clint spun to face them with a chilling expression and berated them about disturbing a patient's – his patient – sleep that successfully shut Minho up.

"All right," Jeff concluded. "You're all fine and dandy, but you still have to stay here for a few days. You have to eat and drink more if you want more meat on your bones. You're skinny as shuck."

"Any questions?" Clint turned to the three boys and folded his arms. Newt slowly raised his trembling hand.

"Yes Newt?"

"I've been meaning to ask you this for quite some time now…" He started nervously. "Who the bloody shuck are you people?"

That one question stunned Clint, Jeff and Thomas into silence while Minho's expression turned glum. Newt bit his lip uneasily as the three stared at Newt in shock and disbelief, similar to Minho's minutes ago. Thomas was the first to break the silence.

"You're kidding, right?"

Newt shook his head and glanced at Minho. Thomas noticed this and whirled around to face Minho. "Is this true?"

Minho had that morose look on his face as he said, "Wish I shucking knew."

Clint dragged Jeff of to the side to discuss about Newt's condition. Bits of conversation could be heard and Thomas had this sudden foreboding feeling curling its icy fingers around his heart at the thought of what they were going to find out.

Clint and Jeff turned to the three boys with a serious expression on their faces. "We think it could be retrograde amnesia, but we're not entirely sure. It could be something else for all we know…"

Jeff sat down next to Newt, his notepad out of his pocket to take down any notes. "Alright Newt, I need you to answer some questions for me."

Newt nodded uncertainly, unsure of what may come his way.

"The others may ask too if they wish," Jeff added. He got another uncertain nod as his answer.

"Do you remember what your life is like?"

"If you mean my whole life from the time when I was a baby till now, then yes," Newt answered.

Four pairs of eyes widened in surprise and Clint immediately hauled Thomas and Minho to the side. "I thought he didn't get his swiped memories back!" Clint hissed.

Thomas quickly shook his head. "He didn't! And if I recall correctly, he didn't get the chip out of his head either!"

A questioning look was directed towards him. "And you guys did?"

"Yeah, from an ex-WICKED doctor," Minho answered for him. "That's why we didn't get our memories back."

"And Newt didn't?"

"We left him in the Berg. He didn't want to infect any non-Immunes in Denver."

Clint nodded and returned to Jeff's side, relaying the information quietly to Jeff. By the unsurprised looks on their faces, it seemed like they had suspected it all along. Jeff turned back to Newt.

"Do you remember how you got your limp?"

Newt, Minho and Thomas tensed up at the question. They knew how Newt got the limp and it was a sensitive topic for them, especially Newt and Minho. "I would rather not answer that question. It is kind of personal."

"You're not surprised that I know about your limp."

Newt snorted. "You know my bloody name without me telling you. It'll be less of a surprise if you knew where I live."

"We don't know where you live."

His eyebrows shot up high. "You don't?"

"No. Mind telling us?"

Newt replied hesitantly. "Uh… I used to live in England… Then we moved to America… Now I'm just a wanderer…"

If Thomas and Minho were confused at the mention of the places, they didn't show it. Jeff patted Newt's shoulder reassuringly. "We're not going to America to murder your family if that's what you're worried about."

"My family's dead."

An awkward silence followed. "… Is it the Flare?"

Newt shrugged indifferently. A shadow clouded his eyes as he spoke. "My parents were torn up by those bloody Cranks while distracting them so my sister and I could run away. I shot my sister in the head because she was almost reaching the Gone."

Another awkward silence followed, this time worse. "… My condolences."

The others gave noises of agreement. Newt just nodded, silently accepting them.

A new question arose in their mind. Thomas was the one who had hesitantly voiced it out. "You're not affected?"

Newt shook his head. "No. I've always been Immune."

Minho leapt up from his seat. "That's impossible!"

Newt seemed alarmed at Minho's outburst. "Why?"

"Because – "Minho started, but was stopped by a firm shake of Jeff's head. Newt felt confused and a little irritated that they would keep things from him.

"I think you all got the wrong person here. I've never met you all in my buggin' life before, especially you, Minho."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "You know his name?"

Minho looked down at the floor guiltily. "My fault. I was kind of shucking desperate for him to remember."

Clint nodded in understanding and gestured to Jeff to continue. "Why did you become a wanderer, Newt? How did you even get to this place?"

"I don't have any place left to go. As for how I got here, I'm not so bloody sure myself. I've started wandering about a month ago. Recently my memories have been a bit blurry and I don't recall coming to this shuck place."

"Describe your life before you became a wanderer."

"No," Minho interjected. "Let me ask this one question."

Jeff resisted the urge to let out an annoyed sigh and looked to Clint. Clint shrugged, believing that things wouldn't get any worse. Jeff nodded to Minho for him to ask his question.

Minho turned to Newt with a serious expression. "Do you remember anything from the last two years?"

Thomas thought that it was a good question and it certainly will get them somewhere in this questioning-slash-interrogation. It may be a tiny piece of this big puzzle but it's still a piece nonetheless.

Newt scratched the back of his neck as he thought this over for a while. "I'm not really sure myself. My memories of the last two years are blurry. Nothing seems to focus when I tried to."

Jeff frowned. "And why is that so?"

Newt started to fiddle with his thumbs and that made Minho narrow his eyes in suspicion. "That is because… A month ago, before I became a wanderer, I..." Newt hesitated, unsure whether he should reveal this piece of information. But Minho needed to know, so he told them.

"I had retrograde amnesia."

Minho leapt up from his seat at this discovery, this information that seemed to be a big key to solving the mystery.

"Then that's it! He had amnesia, he couldn't remember the last two years and he couldn't remember us. That explains everything!"

Clint frowned disapprovingly at Minho's eagerness. "No, I don't really think that explains everything."

"I think Minho has a point," Thomas pointed out. "Our brain is like a computer, see? We keep our information, memories and whatnot inside our brain. Then when a virus attacked the most recent data, to stop the virus from conquering the whole brain, it must've done a thorough clean up and rebooted itself, deleting all the virus-infected data in the process."

Clint sweat dropped at Thomas' explanation and simile. "I don't think the brain works that way – "

"Thomas' explanation has their shucking merits, Clint! We just have to find a way to get his memories back."

"Minho, that's – "

"Not possible."

Everyone in the room turned to look at Newt when he had dashed Minho and Thomas' – and Clint's and Jeff's, but they won't show it – hope.

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked, dread filling his voice every second.

Newt looked at them with sympathy evident in his eyes. "I meant what I said. That's not possible."

"B – bu – but why?" Minho stuttered. Thomas was sure that his mind was racing to come up with explanations and comebacks to whatever excuse Newt will give. Thomas had this sinking feeling that none of it will work.

Newt sighed sadly and closed his eyes. Clearly whatever he had to say will have a great impact on them and he didn't want to see their faces when he said that.

"Because I've already recovered my two-year memory loss. And you all are not in it."

**Is chapter 4 worth the wait? Or is it disappointing? Review and tell me what you think! Oh, and guys, go read the reviews! You'll find something there! **


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